Lessons along the border
by Schauspielerinnen
Summary: Ironically, when Itachi dies he begins learning lessons about life and its imperfect relationship with death. Wandering along the border between the two with a cranky teacher, he watches and learns, even as he tries his best to hang on and wait.
1. No longer living

**A/N: Some stuff to get out of the way… This will not include any fancy writing or plot or whatever. Note the genre, please. The main purpose is just to make you think, which I suspect that I'm not skilled enough to anyway. Some assumptions to get out of the way:**

**1) Kabuto didn't bring Itachi back when he died.  
>2) Sasuke eventually lived a long happy life. Actually, a long life is enough, I neither know nor care about the happy part.<strong>

**A million thanks to the great Jiang-Mei for helping me out with this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><strong>Lessons along the border<strong>

_This is it. The final death. No more walking along the border, no more waiting, no more resisting._

_I'm not afraid of the final crossing. I already stayed way past my time, way past what even the others have stayed. I guess I have you to thank for that._

_It's so strange how everything seems so white and warm here, even though it still feels just like the border we've walked for decades. Not that it felt like decades. Then again, any difference is probably just a figment of my imagination._

_I'm not afraid. Not with the one I've waited for beside me. I feel oddly at peace with myself right now, like whether it's black or white or cold or warm doesn't matter anymore. Is this why you waited too, I wonder?_

_I guess after I'm past this I'll be completely, totally dead. No more pseudo-living. Nothing left at all. It's a bit like graduating from a school._

_I wonder if there's anything that I left behind, anything that shows that I've lived and loved before I died. That I spent all this time walking, waiting, trying not to go insane along the border. Is there any record of that, even?_

_Then again, any record of that time would most probably start from the day I died._

7.30 am to 8.00 am: Reporting – No longer living

_Is there a life after death, or do we simply cease existing when we die?_

/

I was sure that I was dead. The last thing I remembered was looking at Sasuke with my half-blind eyes, poking him in the forehead, and then – nothing.

When I next opened his eyes, it was to pure black all around. I had my Akatsuki cloak once again, though it was supposed to have been charred into nothing. And I was walking forward, being led forward by you, a girl in a white kimono holding my hand.

You, a girl who looked exceptionally like my mother.

**No, it can't be Mother**, I realised after a closer look. You were too young. Younger than me, possibly.

**Is this death?** was my next immediate thought. I slowed my pace, and was disconcerted to find that a dirt path had appeared under my feet. A path leading nowhere I could see, although my vision seemed to have been perfectly restored. Probably a benefit of being dead, I thought. It was a path that I could see surprisingly clearly, despite having no light source.

"Yes, this is death," came a soft, gentle voice. You, the one leading me through the darkness. "I don't think it came as a shock to you, but you're not alive anymore."

I hadn't realised that I had spoken aloud. But you were right, my death was no surprise to me. I just hoped that Sasuke would be alright, wounded out in the ruins alone. Although what was happening out there was already beyond my control. I sort of felt bad about running off to the afterlife on my own but there was nothing I could do about it, not now. "Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Beyond," you replied cryptically. "This is the border between life and death."

I thought about it. Strangely enough, I felt a compulsion to continue forward, break out of this black monotone and into what lay beyond. And at that moment I was so relaxed and peaceful that it seemed to make a lot of sense to just continue. Despite that, I couldn't help thinking, **What's beyond?** I knew that a lot of people thought that I always seemed apathetic on the surface, but I did keep a lot of my thoughts and emotions under control.

"I don't know. You'll have to see for yourself," you replied, smiling gently.

This time, I was sure that I did not speak aloud. I dug his heels into the path, which seemed to be extending of its own whim, and stared at you. _**Shinigami**__,_ I thought, **though I didn't think they could appear as a human**_. _The intellectual side of my brain noted that if I wanted to lead a soul somewhere to be devoured, the smartest thing to do would be to take on the form of someone the soul trusted.

"I am not a _shinigami_," you replied calmly. "I am merely a soul, here to take you to your final destination. I have no influence over death itself, and I certainly can't bring you back to life. Neither do I consume souls. As for this form, would you have felt better if I appeared to you as an old hag instead?"

I was definitely unsettled then. Not only could you hear my thoughts as clearly as my speech, you could seemingly read my memories as well. Then it occurred to me that you could be well hearing all this now as well, so I clamped down on those thoughts and asked, "Then who are you?"

"I'm one of the dead," you said simply. "Come now, you have to be on your way." You pulled at my hand again, though with little force.

I planted my heels more firmly into the ground and shook my head, a bit petulantly. "Not until you tell me what's beyond."

You sighed in your first display of honest emotion. "Did you do something bad while you were alive and are afraid of going to hell now?" You let go of my hand and faced me squarely. I couldn't help noticing how identical you were to Mother, even though you couldn't be the same person. "I can't tell you, because I've never been there. I don't know."

**Then why aren't you there?** I wanted to such words, when rerouted to my mouth, came out more politely, and I had every intention of rerouting my question. Except that before I could open my mouth to ask, I was cut off.

"I died, but I didn't cross the border. I'm hanging on out here, and in the meantime I help people like you across. You happened to call me in your last moments, so here I am. Now can we get a move on? I have more than you to look after," you said, losing your politeness and looking disinterested.

**You can choose to stay?** I felt hope flare in me once more. Maybe, if what lay beyond was nonexistence, I would be able to see Sasuke one last time, without hate in his eyes.

"Of course," you stated emotionlessly.

"Then I want to stay too," I said decisively. **I'll wait for Sasuke.**

You shrugged. "It's your choice." You turned your back on me and walked off the path, through the empty space. "Good luck with hanging on."

I started then. **That's it?** I thought. Then, as I watched your retreating back, shock hit. **Am I supposed to figure this place out on my own?**

I might have heard you sigh into the emptiness before turning back with a resigned look. "Learn to keep up, kid, or I'm leaving you behind."

**Kid?** I couldn't help protesting. **Wait, how am I supposed to learn to walk through air?** Before I could think twice, though, I stepped off the seemingly solid path and into the emptiness.

Whatever I was, I was no longer living.


	2. Adapting

**A/N: Inconsistencies abound... In the standard and frequency of my writing, that is. I forgot to mention that this is the second of my 5th year commemoration-whatever-thingy projects. I spent five years on this site. I'm so old, lol.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>8.00 am to 8.30 am: Lesson 1 – Adapting<span>

_Unchanging, uncaring, undemanding; because they are dead._

/

"In this place, your thoughts define everything. So make sure you can control your thoughts, kid."

I nodded. I just managed to catch up with you, though honestly why should it matter in a place with no landmarks was still beyond me. I did notice that the compulsion to fully cross the border got weaker after a while, though, so maybe you were fully justified in moving. Now, I just focused on directing thoughts to moving forward. My feet moved, but out of habit, I couldn't help thinking that there should be something, anything, beneath them. Without warning, concrete appeared at my feet.

"You don't need solid ground to walk here. Try not to create a path wherever you go. Don't impose too much of your thoughts on the terrain," you instructed. What I saw in front of my miraculously-cured eyes was no longer a Mother lookalike. Your hair had darkened, features sharpened, and you was no longer in a white kimono. Instead you had on a black shirt and shorts, and boots. Far more practical, in my opinion. A total 180 degree turn from before. A total 180 degree turn in personality too. All I did was to wonder out loud why I felt as though I was still breathing and you shot my question down.

/

_"Why am I still breathing? Do I still need air?"_

_"You don't. Now shut up and come along."_

/

You still resembled Mother a little though. Which was very unnerving, since you were nothing like the indulging mother I knew and loved.

"You're imposing your idea of what I should look like on me," you deadpanned at that moment. "Stop trying to see someone else."

**Oops**, I thought. I tried very hard not to see the ground under my feet, tried to imagine nothing but black space there. Somehow, even though there was no light, I could see everything clearly. It was strange how hard it was to know that nothing was supporting my weight and take it as normal. For someone as accustomed to succeeding as I was, finding anything difficult was a new sensation.

"Everyone is equal in death, kid."

**Quit reading my mind** and **You're younger than I am** ran through my mind immediately. Despite the conflicting thoughts, the ground turned transparent bit by bit and finally faded away, much to my satisfaction.

"I told you, your thoughts define everything here. As long as you can separate your thinking process from what you wish to project for me to hear, I'll be able to hear everything you think. You have to learn to cut off your thoughts," you explained expressionlessly. Ah, that might explain why you looked so dead. You were shutting off her thoughts from what you projected for me. I have to learn that trick; it would come in handy. And it would also be less embarrassing. I wasn't sure if I wanted my every thought to be broadcast. Scratch that, I _was_ sure. I didn't want every single one of them out of my head.

"Also, since I can control what I want you to see, you can't be sure that I'm younger than you are. 'Sides, I've been dead longer than you."

**How old are you then?**

"Age doesn't matter in death, kid."

**Then don't call me kid**_._ "My name is Itachi," I stated, experimentally taking a step forward and consciously staring down to make sure nothing happened.

"Names don't matter when you're dead, either." You threw a short glance at my feet. "It's reappearing."

**Crap**_._ I willed it to go back to its prior nothingness. The soil that had materialised flickered once more, but nothing else happened. I frowned.

"You're doing fine, kid. Don't expect too much out of yourself," you remarked. "It's harder for us to change the way we perceive things, because we're dead. You bring all your preconceptions and beliefs with you when you die."

It didn't make me feel much better, though. And on top of that, I was frankly appalled at how transparent my thoughts were. I would have thought that the years I spent serving in the Akatsuki actually triggered a permanent change in me, but it apparently didn't work that way.

"Feelings don't matter when you're dead. Except those that keep you clinging on to the border." You turned from me and walked off through the empty space again. "Come on, there's one more thing you have to know."

I took a few steps forward, concentrating all my thoughts on seeing nothing. When nothing appeared, thankfully, I relaxed slightly. A sudden thought occurred to me and I turned my attention to somewhere else.

"Wait," I called out.

You turned slightly. "What?"

"What colour are my eyes?" I wanted to know if I had succeeded, but I didn't have a mirror. Anyway, any mirror I conjured out in this place would have shown me what I wanted to see if I wanted it badly enough.

Your gaze flickered up. "Now? They're black. Let's go." You resumed walking.

I hurried after you, immensely satisfied with the change.


	3. Observing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>8.30 am to 9.00 am: Lesson 2 – Observing<span>

_What did you miss most, when you died?_

/

I didn't really know how long I had been following you, just that when you suddenly stopped, I wasn't prepared and nearly walked into you. Which was awkward, because when I wanted to stop, the distance between us suddenly doubled. Literally. Your doing or mine? I couldn't say for sure. Not that space seemed to matter here.

You gave me a look and then seemed to stare off into the distance. I had no idea what was going on, since when I followed your gaze, I saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. **You should at least explain what is going on**, I thought with a slight hint of irritation.

"We're going to exit the border into life," you explained lifelessly. **The irony. **You ignored my comment. "Try to think of the world that you know. Then think about wanting to go there. It won't be easy, and if you lose focus, you'll wind up back here."

Exiting into life? I felt somewhat excited about this prospect. Would I get to see Sasuke, I wonder. Does time pass differently in death? How long has it been since I died?

You looked at me expectantly, and said, "Ready? Put some effort into it." Then you grabbed my hand once again and I was dragged out of the border, into the living world.

Exiting the border didn't hurt, not really, but there was a lot of concentration involved, as said. For a moment, I thought that I wasn't going to be able to make it out; it felt like trying to break a rubber band. Eventually, after some twisting and pulling, it broke, and I found myself standing beside you in a too-bright room full of people. At the same time, I could feel an immense tugging feeling inside me, trying to return me to the border.

"Where is this?" I asked. Nobody seemed to notice that we had just popped out of nowhere, everybody was sombre and crowding around a corner. I focused, and their words became clearer.

"… dying…"

"… liver failure…"

"… old age…"

"… _dying_…"

You ignored me and walked right _through_ the bodies, as though they were insubstantial… or you were. "Come," you said, "pay attention."

I followed you, ghosting through the crowd. Because I didn't really exist, did I? I watched as you stood beside an old man, lying on a bed.

"Eventually, you… you'll begin to for – forget," you said haltingly, watching the old man cough weakly while his relatives sobbed at his bedside. "You won't remember… how strong emotions are… or how vivid sensations are when you were alive."

**And so? Do those really matter?** I wondered. I didn't understand why any of this would matter. I'm already dead, like you said.

You looked at me briefly. "Kid, once you forget all these, you'll forget your reason for holding on." A pitying, or perhaps arrogant look flashed across your face, too fast for me to ascertain which. "And then you'll cross the border like everyone else."

"And the point of telling me all this is?" I questioned. You wouldn't say all this with no goal behind it, would you? There has to be a way around it. There always is. Or at least I would like to believe so.

"Yes, there is a way to offset it, to a point," you agreed, continuing to walk through the living. "By the way, kid, your eyes are turning red and swirly again."

It takes me a moment to muster up enough willpower to stave off the compulsion to return back to the emptiness of the border while trying to appear like my Sharingan was deactivated. I guess old habits are hard to break. I always had it activated for the last seven years. "Better?"

"Fair enough. Could be better," you commented, turning back towards the dying old man. I half-expected the people you passed through to look up, or twitch, but of course they couldn't feel a thing. Your hand rests lightly on top of that of the dying man, and I could see the gnarled veins and tendons through your semi-transparent hand. I would guess that I appeared transient to you as well.

"To keep your experiences sort of alive in your mind, you'll have to do this." Your ghostly fingers closed around the solid hand, and gradually, the old man becomes quiescent, his breathing slowing down. I turn my attention to you. Your eyes are shut, and you expression is the same as ever. Yet at the same time, you seemed more peaceful than emotionless.

Almost as if you're draining the remaining life out of that poor old man.

I recoiled without thinking, as though it were an instinct. "If staying on at the border entails draining the life out of others, then I'd rather not stay," I stated firmly.

Your eyes slowly open. "Well then, it's a good thing that you aren't taking life then," you said calmly. Before my eyes, you begin to fade, and when you raised your hand, I could see another semi-transparent hand grasped in yours. "Get ahold of yourself, kid, you'll lose control of your eyes again."

Almost as if all resistance snapped, I returned back to the empty blackness that would be my new home in the years to come. Ahead of me, leading a serene old man down a track, was a little girl, no more than six.

You had changed your form again.

Later, I would ask how you knew to change forms. Later, you would reply me that you saw the child in the old man's dreams as you took the pain of dying from him.


	4. Assignment

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>9.00 am to 9.30 am: Lesson 3 – Assignment<span>

_To be thought of after you die, that is a fortunate thing._

/

I waited for the signal that you said would come when someone dying called. You told me that I would recognise it no matter what, and so I waited in the border, practicing maintaining the image I wanted the project and blocking my thoughts off.

Then I felt an odd tugging feeling that I wasn't familiar with. It was slightly different from the same compulsion that I felt outside of the border. **A call?** I was sure that it was. In this unchanging landscape, with no other presence to be felt, if it wasn't something that I thought of, then it must be you who willed me to feel it. And you wouldn't have bothered.

Like you did, I followed it. You silently unfolded yourself from your half-sitting position and followed closely behind me as I deliberately placed one foot in front of the other, again and again. Without any landmarks, it would have been hard to determine if I was moving at all, if it weren't for the tugging feeling "inside" me that got stronger with every step I took.

It led me to a point where I felt that I would have been pulled right out of the border if I hadn't stopped. I could feel your presence behind me, observing me, so I plunged forward into nothing and everything at the same time.

If I had still been living, I would have blinked at the sudden vividness of the living world, so much brighter than the dull dark border that would be my home in time to come. Since I wasn't, my eyes didn't react, but I felt something like a flinch starting inside before I killed the impulse.

Green dominated my field of vision, but that wasn't the first thing I noticed. It was the Konoha and Kumo-nin, standing together that I did. That was surprising on its own, but the bluish prisoner that they circled was far more surprising, though I had to confess that I had known that it was a matter of time before it came to this.

You materialised a few feet away from me, unflinchingly taking in the same scene that I was. Then you walked towards me, leaving no imprint on the long grass.

**Is this a coincidence, or did it happen by design?**

"You know him, then."

"Yes."

Your empty gaze turned from him to me. "I don't know, but I would guess that he had thought of you, or you were called because he crossed your path while you were alive."

**Would that be a good or bad thing?** I wondered. I continued observing Kisame. I always knew that it was inevitable that the members of Akatsuki would fall, because the stakes were never as high for us as compared to those who were protecting their homes.

Looking at him, I wondered if I was anything like that when I died. If I was as determined, as dignified. I watched as the sharks began to tear into him, causing clouds of blood to erupt. It had to hurt. You looked at me expectantly and pointed towards him.

Yes, I almost forgot. It would be my job now. I made my way through Konoha and Kumo-nin, until I was right inside the Water Prison. The sharks swam through right through me. My former partner stared right through me. Of course. To him, I didn't exist.

The sharks were quick, efficient. I didn't have much left to work with, so I lightly rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping that I would know that to do, hoping that it would all be instinctive like you said.

Pain instantly flowered in my mind. I had expected this. You told me that I would be empathising with the dying, so I could feel whatever they did, but it wasn't real. I pushed it down, out of habit, and other feelings rose to take its place. Pride. Conviction.

I stored all of this away as reminders to myself, of what it felt like to live. They didn't really feel any different from what I thought I knew, but if I ever needed it, I would have it. Especially since I might forget, eventually.

You suddenly raised your hand, catching my attention, then disappeared. I took it to mean that I should return to the border, so I relaxed and the light receded, giving way to the darkness of the border.

Kisame stood by me, as though we were off on a mission once again. Exactly the same as I remembered. "Itachi-san? I must be either dreaming or dead. And I don't dream. Much."

"You are dead," I confirmed. I started forward, and he followed. Left alone, he would have crossed eventually, but if he was stubborn, and he was, it would take a long time for him to be dragged across. And it wasn't really beneficial for him to stay any longer than needed.

I didn't see you, but I vaguely felt you around. Somewhere.

**Is this some sort of afterlife?**

I was initially surprised that I could hear his thoughts. It was the first time I was hearing anything that wasn't being said out loud. However, you could hear my thoughts, so I should have known that I would hear Kisame's. I decided not to reply, since he wouldn't be expecting one.

I stopped when I felt the pressure that threatened to pull me across to the other side increase. I gestured for Kisame to proceed. "Farewell, Kisame-san."

Kisame looked at me with his shark teeth all showing. "You're not going?"

I shook my head.

"Waiting for your little brother?"

**How did you know?** I couldn't help thinking. I nodded anyway, since I have always respected Kisame, and the dead are no threat.

Kisame gave me his trademark shark grin. "It was a pleasure working with both of you."

"What do you mean?"

He continued showing off his teeth. "I wasn't that bad a person, was I?"

As I watched him fade into the depths, I wondered what he meant.

Without warning, you suddenly reappeared beside me, sort-of glaring. Sort-of, because it didn't look particularly angry, just mildly annoyed. "Stupid kid, do you want to get dragged over as well? Get out of here."

I followed you as you walked along the border, until the pressure let up and it felt more comfortable again. "So how did you find it?" you asked abruptly.

I formed a shrug. "I didn't find anything special about it." My mind was still turning over Kisame's comment. It wasn't that bad, meeting him one more time, but I was lucky. Would I be as fortunate when the time came for Sasuke?

"Good. Get used to it." You curled back into a half-sitting position, but the strange physics of this place meant that you were still at my shoulder level. "And quit worrying already. There's nothing you can do about it."

You didn't add, _you're already dead_.


	5. Unhinged

**A/N: I do realise that I'm a morbid person. Anyway, cheers to missmocha77 for actually reading all the death-related crap I produce.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>9.30 am to 10.00 am: Lesson 4 – Unhinged<span>

_What is worse than dying is dying without dignity._

/

I suspected that I was beginning to get used to the emptiness. Time seemed to pass fairly quickly in this place, in any case. Not that time or space meant anything to begin with.

I had already became rather used to maintaining the appearance I wanted, namely the inactivated Sharingan. I left my _hitai-ate_ alone, since I didn't think I had the right to present myself as a Konoha-nin, even in death.

You largely ignored me, favouring the empty darkness instead.

It was at some point in this seeming hibernation that I felt a call. Nowhere near as strong as the previous one, of course, but I felt it nonetheless. At the same time, your head rose from its resting position, as though you felt it instead of me. Which told me that I really hadn't mastered blocking my thoughts off yet.

This time, I was led to a lush green forest, where an overturned wagon sat on a dirt path winding through the trees. That was where the call originated, and I would have approached if you hadn't stopped me.

"Wait," you said calmly.

I stopped, feeling as though there was a force pushing against me. Was this what you called "imposing"? Causing something to be by willing it so? I took a step back and the pressure eased, though I could still feel the call, getting stronger by the second.

"What do you want?" you addressed the air. I didn't understand at first, but I did after I felt a seething mass of thoughts permeate my surroundings.

Another dead soul materialised. It was a considerably disturbing sight. He or she - I personally thought it was a she – had impossibly long hands and legs and a distorted face. As I watched, her face rippled through several changes before settling on one with a hideous maw and mismatched eyes.

**Oh, it's you.** That was what I thought I heard, but it was unclear, as though the thinker wasn't lucid. **Why are you here?**

"Get lost. They're not yours." You snapped.

She slid forward, her steps much larger than what would be considered proportional to the length of her legs. **But there're two of them.**

"Do the math. Two of them and three of us. Get lost," you repeated, more forcefully this time. I watched as she stopped, almost as if she ran into a wall, then with a gnashing of crooked teeth, she disappeared, probably back to the border. With her absence, the blurry thoughts I could feel in my periphery were gone as well.

**Who was that?** My own thoughts this time, and they sounded so clear in comparison.

"Unhinged," you replied flatly. Now that she had left, you went back to your normal self. "Went mad," you clarified.

I said nothing, but I truly hoped that I would never end up in such a state.

Returning to the overturned wagon, I saw twisted wood where the horse broke free. I heard laboured breathing as I approached. A hand stuck out from under the main cart, and that was the hand I reached out for, before the second person caught my eye. His legs were trapped under the cart, bleeding, but he was otherwise unharmed.

Instinctively, I reached out to right the cart, to free the man, but you slapped my hand away. Transient as you appeared, it stung more than it should. I supposed that it was something that you wanted me to feel.

"You're not supposed to interfere with the balance," you hissed, more forcefully than when you were dealing with the unhinged.

"He might still live," I protested, but I withdrew my hand nonetheless. Despite my desire to help him, I couldn't actually do anything… could I?

"Do not interfere," you said with an air of finality.

I gave up and reached for that lone hand belonging to the other man.

/

It took two hours, judging by the sun, for the second man to die. I brought both of them, both disoriented, across the border, before resuming what I had been doing before. You followed silently, observing.

When we were both looking at nothing in the border again, the question reoccurred to me.

"Could I actually have done anything back there?"

You barely twitched, even though my question was spontaneous, so you couldn't have known it was coming. "No."

"Then why did you stop me?" I demanded. A part of my mind noticed that my tones were becoming duller, almost like yours. Uncaring. It was worrying, a little.

"Because that's how most of the unhinged come about. Trying to interfere in the balance because they felt pity, then despair and madness when they can't change anything."

**Oh.** If that is so, then… "Will you stop me? Before I become unhinged?" The question came out so naturally, I almost wanted to take it back, to reconsider it before I made such a request. But words, no matter where they are said, can't even be taken back.

"I will. As long as you do the same for me."


	6. Recollections

**A/N: Since I have actually amazingly gotten to chapter 6, here's to _missmocha77_, _Itachi Uchiha is my HERO_ and _Ghostsammeo_. Thanks for reading the morbid ramblings of a very-much-alive eighteen year-old.**

**By the way, daily updates will continue until I run out of spare chapters *cough* I meant, until I run out of inspiration. You didn't see anything :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>10.00 am to 10.30 am: Break – Recollections<span>

_What are the things you best remember, even after so much time?_

/

"When I was six, I graduated from the Academy."

"Genius. I don't remember what happened when I was six."

Again? I was beginning to suspect that you were omitting things on purpose.

"I'm not lying, kid, I really don't remember. Not everyone's a genius like you."

It just so happened that neither of us had been called out of the border in some time, or time was playing tricks on us again. In any case, I was, to put it bluntly, bored, and suggested a game where we traded one event, the most important or memorable incident, from each year of our lives.

Not that I had met with any success so far. You agreed to play, but it was possibly because you were equally bored. Or you just wanted to keep me occupied with the least effort required. We were up to year six and I was the only one providing any substantial material.

Still… "Genius has very little to do with memory," I pointed out.

"I died a long time ago, okay?" you replied nonchalantly.

Not that this answered the question either, but I decided to drop it. "When I was seven, I activated my Sharingan for the first time."

"When I was seven, my mother forced me to go to school with a stick."

Finally a decent response. " 'Forced'? Did you really hate it that much? When I was eight, I awakened all three _tomoe_."

"The teachers hated me. I hated them. Recipe for disaster. When I was eight, I jumped from my classroom window and broke my leg."

"I can see why they disliked you."

/

"When I was thirteen…" I hesitated. Thirteen wasn't a good year for me. "I killed my entire clan, except for my brother, and became a missing-nin," I ended dully. Not for the first time, I was acutely aware that there was still a line scratched through my _hitai-ate_. A line that I could remove now, but I chose not to.

You didn't reply immediately. You just stared blankly. "Your life sucked. At least you didn't get arrested," you finally offered.

"I wouldn't have been arrested, so that's beside the point. It wasn't as if I wanted to do it." It wasn't something I could forget either. The look on my mother's face especially, when my katana cut right through her. She didn't even have time to get past the shock, to get angry or indignant or to defend herself. She didn't have time for anything.

"Obviously you didn't, you stupid kid," you deadpanned. The insult didn't have much force behind it, so it didn't sting as much as it did usually. I was beginning to get used to it, anyway.

"What did you do when you were thirteen?" I prodded, more to change the topic than out of curiosity.

Your head dropped a few degrees to the side in a show of contemplation. "Ran away from home and got arrested. And grounded for the whole of next year."

The irony.

/

"When I was twenty-one, I fought my brother and died. The end," I concluded.

"Well, that's it, then," you remarked.

"It's your turn," I pointed out.

"You died at twenty-one, so you have nothing left to trade."

"You were useless the first six years too," I countered. "At least tell me how you left."

"Fine. My life was taken from me. Happy?"

Naturally, I was taken aback. "Who're you waiting for, then?"

"None of your business, damn kid."

In spite of the non-answer, I felt like laughing. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but you did sound uncannily like a relief teacher I had back at the Academy, who stayed only a month and then went off to who knows where. It occurred to me then that you might possibly have been the same teacher, but I dismissed that thought. Unless that teacher died young, it couldn't be possible. And she didn't seem like the sort to put herself in the way of danger.

Still, to be sure, I asked, "What did you do when you were alive? Were you a _kunoichi_?"

Faint traces of amusement sketched themselves over your face. "Thankfully, no."

"Then what did you do?"

"Shut up and sit down, damn brat. Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

That sounded like that teacher too. I pondered that for a moment. "But I am already dead," I pointed out amiably.


	7. Tutoring

**A/N: To avoid spamming a certain someone's inbox, I shall state it here. I still prefer the term 'uneasy allies'. Hmm, maybe that's why I have terrible friends.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Quote belongs to the all-amazing Sound Horizon.**

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><p><span>10.30 am to 11.00 am: Lesson 5 – Tutoring<span>

_What burns this heart is the fire of revenge and hatred  
><em>_~Song of Dusk_

/

**You are annoying**, I thought, and willed you to hear it as a shout.

You cocked your head at me slightly. "Not working."

I suppressed a sigh, but it escaped anyway. This was my fifth attempt at trying to surprise you. You had challenged me to shock you, and if I succeeded you would answer my questions satisfactorily. This naturally involved being able to block my thoughts off from you, most of the time. Again, I suspected it was more to keep me occupied with the least possible effort, but since there was nothing better to do, I took it up.

I was coming up with my sixth attempt when the now-familiar tug told me that I had another assignment. I followed it, knowing that you would follow. Traversing the border became easier each time I tried. At least I was sure now that I was moving and not walking on the spot.

This time, there was no harsh light, not that it ever hurt. In fact, there was very little light to begin with, such that for a moment I wondered if I failed to exit the border and was stuck at its edge. But the blurry shapes moving in the dim light and the ever-present compulsion to go back told me that yes, I had successfully left the border behind.

Slowly, muffled screams came to my attention. I was in some sort of alleyway, one with poor lighting facilities, since most of the illumination seemed to come from the half-moon in the sky. I concentrated, but the sounds became no clearer. Slightly concerned, I focused all my attention on hearing, but they remained muffled. I turned to you querulously, but you merely shrugged and pointed.

In the dim light, it was hard to tell what was happening, so I moved closer. The sound of my footfalls were nonexistent anyway, but the screams became louder, though no clearer. I was only an arm's length away from the nearest dark shape when the glint of silver caught my eye. A knife blade reflecting the moonlight, held in a hand. Then that hand swiftly drew the knife across something, and the muffled screams ceased.

The owner of the knife ran with his burden, and I was left looking at a pale, pretty face, with a blood-red smile drawn across the neck. For a moment I wished I wasn't dead, if only so that I could have interfered somehow. But I wasn't, so it was with some regret that I bent down to take the dying girl's hand.

Panic flashed through me. I let it run its course, and gradually, traces of joy and anxiety followed. A boy's face drifted through my mind, along with the image of vast hallways with marble flooring. From this, I concluded that she must have been the daughter of a rich merchant, or a noble, and she must have been about sixteen or thereabout. Old enough to be allowed out on her own at night.

Then pure hate coursed through me, and I nearly let go. It was reminiscent of the time when I was thirteen and had to make a choice between Konoha and my clan. Back then, the hatred was directed at myself. This hate wasn't internally directed, it was for someone else. And it was obvious who that someone else was.

Before I knew it, I was back at the border, almost instinctively. I must be getting used to the whole process. Unlike you, I never quite saw the point of assuming the form of someone familiar to the dead to make them feel better, so I remained as I was. I began guiding the poor victim across the border, but unlike with the other dead, she resisted.

**Where am I?** Her thoughts invaded my awareness, and I contemplated answering. Would she freak out if I suddenly responded to her thoughts?

In the end, I answered anyway. "At the border between life and death."

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" She became more insistent and resisted moving, so I released her. Was this how I seemed to you when we first met?

"I am one of the dead, and I'm taking you across the border," I explained, carefully considering what I wanted her to know. It would be good for her to cross, to find some final peace, but she seemed to stiffen at the idea of dying.

"I am not dead!" she insisted. "I can't be! It's not fair! It's all his fault!" She shook her head vigorously and clenched her fists. "I'm going back!" **And he will pay.**

I had no doubt as to who she meant. This was a situation that I hadn't expected to encounter. **Help me out? **I tried directing that to you. Not that you would be happy about it, but you must have had some experience of this.

In response, you appeared in her path. For a moment, I thought I saw a slightly annoyed expression on your face before it was wiped clean and replaced with a kind look. "I'm sorry, miss, but you're dead. You can't go back."

**No!** she almost screamed. "No! It's not fair! I hate him! Why can't he die instead? It's not fair!" She broke down sobbing, and I had no idea how to proceed from here. It was distinctly uncomfortable to be in this situation, even though it all shouldn't have mattered.

You waited patiently for her to regain control of herself. I followed your lead. I could hear an array of jumbled thoughts that revolved around her resentment and wanting to cling on to life, any kind of life, so she could punish her murderer. I didn't know why, but I felt disapproval at those sentiments. If you felt the same, you didn't show it.

Eventually she stopped her awful keening and asked, "What can I do?"

Clearly she was asking how to return to life or exact vengeance. I expected you to reply, but your silence told me that this was my assignment to see through. Reluctantly, I told her, "You can choose not to cross the border now, and stay here. However, there is a trade-off. You will have to help others across if you stay, and there's also the deterioration of your sense of self to contend with."

I wanted to add that it wasn't worth it, to resent death as such, but the hate etched across her face told me that I would meet with little success. She would stay. That much was certain.

/

I waited somewhere in the border. I had somehow managed to convince you that I was completely unsuited to teach anyone how to work the border, and you had, in a bout of kindness, taken the task off my hands. Now I waited for you to return with her.

I expected both of you, so I was surprised when you alone returned and resumed your bored, half-sitting position. I didn't have to ask; you preempted my question entirely.

"She decided to go off on her own. Said she didn't like the idea of other people listening in on her thoughts."

"Is that usually a problem?" It occurred to me that I must not have been the first of your assignments to choose not to cross the border. And yet you were alone when I came.

"Usually. Though the fact that she could feel your disapproval helped."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not a problem, kid. I didn't like her either. She won't last long, anyway. Revenge-seekers never do."

Seeking revenge on the people who killed them, to the point that they compromised their own peace. It did sound like a sad existence. Out of nowhere I recalled something that you said once. "You're not waiting for the person who killed you, are you?"

"No. I'm no hypocrite, kid."


	8. The sleeping himegimi

**A/N: Written some time ago, when I was under the extraordinarily heavy influence of Sound Horizon, which belongs to the great Revo-heika. In fact, this was the idea that spawned this whole story. So it's kind of obvious where my morbid tendencies stem from. Unfitting influences abound, so be warned.**

**Before I forget again, many thanks to catdompteuse, Ghostsammeo, imboredhelpmeh, DRAGONheartedxx, and WashingAwaySins for the support-cum-motivation. And as always, to the lovely missmocha77 :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto nor the Garasu no Hitsugi de Nemuru Himegimi influences here.**

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><p><span>11.00 am to 11.30 am: Lesson 6 – The sleeping <span>_himegimi_

_We all live, love and die._

/

I felt a call. Without actually saying anything, I made my way along the border to where I could cross into the world of the living. You followed (to my chagrin, you could still pick up on some of my stronger thoughts, though I was getting better at shutting my mind off).

The call was rather weak. I followed it to where it felt strongest. Crossing over, I found himself in a clean white room. A hospital room.

Its occupant was the one calling me. A young girl of six or seven who was ironically sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. A man sat by her side and held her hand. She looked as though she had been sleeping a long time.

"Terminal illness," you said softly as you emerged beside him. I looked at you curiously. "You'll be here a while, kid. She won't die so quickly."

I gave you a questioning look. Or rather, formed a questioning look by willing it. "Does she have any chance of living?"

"None. If she called you, she will eventually die. Slowly, but surely, she will cross." You gave me what looked like a cross between a pitying and insolent look. "You should know that."

"But she looks like she's just sleeping," I countered calmly, though with no real conviction. Even though I've known of people beating the odds, I wasn't quite able to place solid bets on anyone who was hooked up to an oxygen tank and a heart monitor. "She looks very much alive."

"As did _Shirayuki-hime_," was you emotionless reply.

" 'Skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony, and lips as red as blood'," I quoted, looking more closely at the patient. **Only here the paleness is from staying indoors for months on end, and the fiery lips a sign of her illness**.

"Yes," you agreed. "The final stages of leukemia, I should think."

"_Shirayuki-hime_ awoke in the end," I pointed out.

"Yes, though she should not have." For a moment you lost control of your thoughts, and I thought I saw a brief flicker of wistfulness. Then it was gone, and you said to me, "Go to the _himegimi_, kid, her father can't do anything now. Only you can ease her pain."

/

The _himegimi_ didn't leave the living easily. I took her hand on and off, the one that wasn't claimed by the man who never left her side. When I did I would catch glimpses of a life filled with love and laughter; of sunlight and pretty flowers and bubbling streams. Fragments of a short, happy life in between the flashes of pain that I incorporated. I valued those fragmented visions highly, for they were of a Konoha that I had not seen for years. I sometimes wondered if my village had always been that beautiful, but I just had not noticed in my pursuit of becoming a _shinobi_.

Despite that, my favourite memory from those that I saw was that of a tiny outstretched hand, reaching up for a larger one.

A few days passed in the living world, and I watched as she grew paler and her lips redder. I listened as the man prayed fervently for her recovery and talked nonsensically about what they would do once she was discharged. I expected that, as the days passed, those mumblings would get fewer and farther in between, but they never did. And I couldn't help but wonder how hard it must have been for the man to watch his daughter die.

Rather different from a son watching his parents die at his hands, I inferred.

Sometimes, when I lost focus and flickered back to the nothingness of the border, I could see a vague image of the _himegimi_ there. Sleeping in death as she was in life. I wondered if it was a figment of my imagination, that I saw what I wanted to see, but as I was told, she was slowly but surely crossing the border. I would then hurry back to the sterile hospital room and watch as she slipped, little by little, from life. And I would wonder if this was how _Shirayuki-hime_ would have ended up if the apple hadn't been dislodged.

To my surprise, I found myself willing the _himegimi_ to cling on to life, to not cross into death. I found himself watching her condition, against my will, even though I knew better. Because no matter how impossible the odds seemed, humans hold tighter to life than any species that walked this earth. I found myself wanting to take the losing side in the battle that raged in the tiny claustrophobic room.

But still, when the time came, she crossed the border.

/

I found you somewhere along the border, or maybe you found me. Who knew how things worked in this place?

"The _himegimi_ crossed," you said, staring over your knees at nothing. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"You're not alright," you stated.

**Yes**. "No," I lied. Pointlessly. You didn't even ask.

"Elaborate," you ordered, just as flatly as before.

I didn't want to think about it, but I did. About how I've seen so many die in my years with the Akatsuki, but none of them ever left this quietly. About how the joy and pain were interspersed so much at the end that I could barely separate the two. About how despite everything her poor father did, everything I myself wished for, death continued its inevitable march to claim life. And oddly enough, amongst all the depressing thoughts, about a small hand innocently reaching for the protection of a larger one.

"Where do you want me to start? Death isn't always quick, like what you've seen up till now," you addressed quietly. "Not everybody dies cleanly in battle, or content in their old age. But it is fair. No matter who you are, what you did in your life and how you lived it, death comes for everyone in the end. The same with _Shirayuki-hime_ and _Nemurerubijo_. Even if they had awakened, they would one day cross."

Out of habit, I formed a sigh. It wasn't that I didn't know, it was just that I didn't like to see it in action.

"Konoha was nicer than I remembered," I remarked, not really expecting an answer. Hidden Village in the Leaves it was, but had it been that perfectly lush when I lived?

"I wouldn't believe that if I were you. Recollections can be distorted, after all. And kids are so impressionable."

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><p><strong>Notes: Shirayuki-hime – Snow White<strong>

**Nemurerubijo – Sleeping Beauty**


	9. Mark

**A/N: Is it a crime to be addicted to a band that doesn't know what 'happy endings' are? Is it?**

**Thanks to all the people who reviewed/favourited/alerted. I'm feeling a little sick now, so I'll just quickly post this and continue tomorrow.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Or the quote. Again.**

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><p><span>11.30 am to 12.00 pm: Lesson 7 – Mark<span>

_With a tiny casket as a cradle, I send you off, you who will never wake.  
>~Flame<em>

/

It was the hospital again, I saw as I left the border under the call of the dying. Possibly the same hospital as the last time, though I didn't recognise this particular wing. And for a good reason, I realised as I took in the doctors and nurses hurrying around their patient. The woman was screaming in agony, and large sheet hanging off a frame at her midsection explained why. She was in labour, and the anxious man beside her confirmed it.

You made no sound as you joined me in the world of the living, watching the same scene as I was. Not that I wasn't already used to it. As I got better at this… _job_, you spoke less and less. I was already naturally not talkative, so I had no objections. Usually.

"The mother?" I asked. I could feel the call strongly, but I just wanted to be sure. I didn't always get the right person at first, and I really disliked being wrong. Despite your unchanging expression, I got the feeling that you were laughing at me inside every time I tried to help to wrong person cross. And I disliked being laughed at even more.

You merely shrugged, which I took to be agreement. I felt a pang of pity for the unborn child who would grow up not knowing his mother, but I couldn't change the way things were. I approached the cot slowly with distaste, passing right through the nurses who couldn't see me.

"Hold it."

I paused and turned, though it was more out of habit that actually needing to face the person speaking. "What?"

"Listen to the doctor," you ordered flatly.

I turned my attention to the said living lady in blue and focused to filter her words out of the cacophony. I caught mostly words that meant nothing to me and a few words that did, such as "accident" and "detached placenta".

"The child, then?" I asked, though I actually didn't have to. Now that I knew what to look for, the call was clearly coming from the foetus. I felt marginally better that it wasn't the adult woman who was going to cross, but instead a stillborn baby. Not that it made my job any more pleasant either way, but I just thought that it would be more merciful for the mother to live.

"Yes." You came right up to me and rested your hands on the mother's swollen belly carefully, so that they didn't pass right through the flesh. I could see the sterile green sheet through your pale, not-quite-solid hands. "You can reach inside and take him away now, if you are willing."

Reflexively, I recoiled. I most certainly did not like the idea of reaching inside a body to retrieve a dead baby. You noted my reaction and added dryly, "I didn't think you were. Well then, you can immediately take him across the second he is born. If he lives until then, that is."

"He won't," I said immediately, with certainty, and my heart, figuratively speaking, sank. I stared at the expanse of green, broken by a pair of pale ghostly hands, in front of my eyes and exhaled habitually in resignation, ignoring the woman's cries, the nurses' hushing and the doctor's yelling. Was there really no other way?

You gave a huffy sigh, your first display of emotion in a long time. "I'll do it then, if you don't mind."

I most definitely did not mind. "Thank you," I replied awkwardly.

My relief must have been apparent. I saw you roll your eyes and mouth something that might have been "_men!_", but I couldn't be sure.

Your hands plunged below the green surface, and I averted my eyes. **A perfectly normal reaction**, I told himself as I stared at my feet. **After all, who wouldn't be disturbed by this?**

Apparently not you. I felt you return to the border, leaving a gaping hole in my awareness of the birthing room. I closed my eyes and thought about returning, and when I opened them, you were there cradling a swaddled infant in your arms. You held him out.

Understanding your intent perfectly, I took the bundle from you. "Careful, you have to concentrate on maintaining this form for him," you cautioned. "He knows nothing, he can't control how he appears in this place."

I nodded, and holding the silent infant to my chest, trekked my way along the border until I could set my burden on its way to death. You followed behind. I noticed that baby was truly still, not even breathing like you and I did habitually. It seemed strange at first, but it made sense. He didn't know that he had to breathe. Come to think of it, I wasn't sure if the baby was a boy. It could well be a girl, I reflected.

At the point where the pull of death became strong enough that I couldn't risk taking another step, I released my grip. The infant left my arms and was pulled away. I watched until I no longer saw anything but the plain black of the border. You waited patiently. Then we turned and trekked back silently.

"Tell me one thing," you said suddenly, breaking the companionable silence.

My curiosity was naturally piqued. This was rare. "What?"

"Why did you regret when you thought that the mother was the one dying, but not when you found out that her son was instead?"

I shrugged dismissively. "I just thought that if the mother died, then the child would have grown up not knowing a mother's love, and that would have been sad. And all those who knew his mother would have mourned. At least the child hadn't been born yet, he wouldn't have affected so many others. He didn't even know what it meant to breathe on his own."

You stared. "That's not true. What of the parents then? What about the mother who had borne him for months? She may never recover from this loss. She will never have another son who would be like the one she just lost," you said quietly.

I didn't know what to say in response, and I was getting the uneasy feeling that I had offended you in some way or other. Even if you claimed that offense 'meant squat in death'. "Oh," I said after a while.

"No matter who we are, the minute we are granted life, we leave a mark on someone," you continued. "We all left marks on those who knew us, loved us, and mourned us. It doesn't matter if you met them, you still leave a mark." I met the sideways, slightly wistful glance you cast me. "Even you. I'm sure that you were missed when you died."

It was a topic we didn't seriously broach often, my death. I had long forgotten what it felt like to want to cry, forgotten the burning feeling in my eyes and throat. So when I finally replied, my voice was perfectly steady. "Thanks."


	10. Solitude, Loneliness

**A/N: Alright, moment of genius over... Now we're back to the emo corner. And yes, I am better now. It was just the accursed weather. Thanks for caring!**

**Thanks to Theswanghost01, Ghostsammeo, imboredhelpmeh, missmocha77 and JustBeYou for all the support! And care haha.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>12.00 pm to 12.30 pm: Break – SolitudeLoneliness

_Those who enjoy being alone call it _solitude_; those who don't, call it _loneliness_._

/

It had begun as a regular assignment. I had been called out of the border into a dilapidated home of an old woman, who had probably scraped a living from collecting and reselling secondhand goods. The piles of broken items in the building were evidence of it.

You had followed, ghosting through the piled obstacles unconcernedly. I could have done the same, but I didn't. It would have felt like a sign that I was no longer concerned with carrying myself as though I was alive. Not that I objected to your choice, merely that I wouldn't do the same.

I had brought the old woman across the border, as required. Her memories had mostly been of pain, or drudgery, and the occasional brighter day in her youth. From those, I gathered that she had been left behind as society progressed. With no skills that could gain her employment, she had no choice but to employ herself.

I did feel a touch of pity for her, but a touch, and no more. I had long accepted that death was a part of life, and that there are many other people suffering still. I could have been considered lucky by their standards; at least I chose the terms of my death.

Normally, after the dead soul I was in charge of departed, you would reappear and trek back with me, or wait at a place where I could find you. However, this time, when the old woman left, I realised that I did not feel your presence as I usually did. It was unusual, but not worrying. After all, you did have your own assignments to deal with.

Not that you usually left without warning.

I trekked back alone, to where the pressure to cross let up. You would be able to find me, I was sure. You always did, even though there were no landmarks.

It was also unlikely that you had been dragged across the border. You were experienced, and careful enough that it would never happen. So I stood still and waited.

/

Silence.

I had never imagined myself to be one who would be bothered by the absence of sound, but silence in death was admittedly different from silence in life. Silence in life could be broken any moment, I knew for certain that it was transient and if I ever disliked it I could change the fact it dominated.

Silence in death was different.

Turning the issue around in my head, I deduced that what made silence in life bearable was the knowledge that somewhere else, there was someone making a sound, speaking, moving. By that same reasoning, silence in death grated because there was no guarantee that it was ephemeral.

I would have liked to say that it meant nothing, but it clearly did.

Without knowing that there was something else, someone else in this border, it was impossible to tell if I existed. If I was actually holding on to the right side of it and not actually pulled over.

How long had it been?

I wanted to feel a call then, just so that I knew that time was passing by. I wanted to know if I was still in the border. I wanted to know if the laws of physics still held true in the world I left behind.

As it was, I couldn't be sure if I had not become unhinged.

Was this what it had been like for you? Waiting alone in the dark, not knowing how much time had passed, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing if you were still sane. It must have taken a great deal of willpower to remain in control.

_In this place, your will determines everything._ It had been long enough, I decided. I could find you by willing it, as I did sometimes. I called your presence to mind. Nothing happened in response, as before.

I was beginning to feel as though I had been left on my own. It was a feeling that I should have been used to, but it stung all the same.

I wonder if this was how Sasuke felt on that night.

/

When I next felt something, it came as a surprise.

I felt your presence.

I cannot recall having ever felt so relieved before. Perhaps later I would take into consideration the effects of memory erosion, but at that moment, I felt relieved beyond words.

"I thought you crossed," were my first words.

**What?** A brief flicker ran through your image, as though you lost focus for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. I sensed a snide remark on the way, but it just died off before you could say it.

"Itachi," you said carefully, and I sensed that you were trying to be kind in whatever way you could, "I promise you that I will not cross without giving you advance warning. You can stop worrying about that. Time was just messing with you."

It felt vaguely mortifying for my thoughts to be so transparent even after so much time being dead, but I hardly cared then. "Thank you."


	11. hitai ate

**A/N: Emo corner run over... Now back to jabbing each other like the uneasy allies they are. *insert innocent smile here***

**Thanks to all those who have reviewed/alerted/faved. Ducky is going to study now. (No wait, you didn't see anything!)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Song of Dawn belongs to you-already-know-who (my obsession).**

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><p><span>12.30 pm to 1.00 pm: Lesson 8 – <span>_hitai-ate_

_What we sought while repeating all these sins –  
>It was grace, it was love, it was happiness, it was the future<br>~ Song of Dawn_

/

"You owe me answers."

"Huh, to what?" you asked.

"I successfully shocked you," I reminded patiently. "May I get decent answers out of you now?"

I could tell that you were riffling through your memories from the way you failed to respond immediately. A brief flicker of distaste crossed your face, too fast for me to respond, before you said, "Fine, ask away. One question only, though."

Only one question? That didn't feel fair, but knowing you, you wouldn't care and there would be nothing that I could do about it. I carefully considered what question I wanted. There were so many things that I wanted to know. Your name was one. Your former vocation, another. And the person you were waiting for rounded the list nicely.

In the end, I settled on your former vocation, because names really did mean nothing in death. Even if I knew it, it wouldn't have told me anything. And it didn't matter who you were waiting for, because it didn't concern me.

You waited expectantly.

"What kind of job did you hold when you were alive?" I finally asked.

"Psychologist-in-training," you said promptly, as though you had been expecting it. Which you possibly might have been. "I died before I could begin practice, though."

"I see." It was rather unexpected, considering what I already knew of you.

"I'm honoured that you think so highly of me, kid. Just because I hated school doesn't mean that I didn't graduate," you said with a faint touch of what seemed to be sarcasm. I could tell that you were trying to sound sarcastic, with some success. I suppose all the time spent being dead eroded your memories of speech patterns. Then I briefly wondered if I could still be sarcastic.

In any case, that ruled out one theory I had about the possible relation that we might have had in life. "Was I that obvious?" I asked, though I already knew the answer to this question.

I was surprised when you answered to the contrary. "No. You're getting better, kid."

"I try my best."

You gave me a curious look, a rare occurrence. "It's gone on long enough," you announced suddenly.

"What has gone on long enough?"

"Your _hitai-ate_. I've been letting you off because your life sucked, but you haven't been alive in a long time. The line scratched through it doesn't make the recently-deceased feel better, kid. Especially if they were _shinobi_. You won't change your form for them either, so it has to go."

This was something I rather not discuss. "Noted. I'll make sure that they will not see it," I replied.

"Why not just get rid of that scratch permanently?" you suggested as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I chose my words carefully. "I don't think that I should. I'm already used to it."

You rolled your eyes blatantly. Another unusual occurrence. "You obviously don't like it. Do something about it. You're already dead, anyway."

"I don't think I have the right to present myself as a Konoha-nin, considering all that I did," I said, attempting to inject an air of finality into my words.

You chose to ignore the hint. "You can stop punishing yourself, kid. You did the best you could under those circumstances."

"I disobeyed the council's orders, then turned around and threatened them, and then defected from the village," I listed. I was targeting a nonchalant tone, and all that practice did pay off, because I achieved what I targeted. I sounded positively bored.

You evidently refused to buy it, nonetheless. "You tried, you idiot. At thirteen, most kids have better things to do than decide their family's fate," you insisted.

"Like running away and getting arrested?" I asked dryly.

You were not amused. "And assorted other activities that would only get them grounded, yes. Which is why I think you've been punishing yourself long enough. You already died for it, for crying out loud."

When you put it that way, it did seem rather sensible. "Very well," I conceded. I thought about my _hitai-ate_, the way it used to look with the insignia of the Leaf unbroken, and willed it to change.

"You're screwing it up, kid. It's totally off-centre now."

"Could you possibly offer some assistance?"

You didn't reply, but I felt a slight pressure on my forehead that was not entirely unfamiliar. I reached up and traced the smooth unbroken insignia of the Leaf. "Thank you."

"Maintain it yourself," was your retort.

"I will, _shinrigakusha__-san_."

"Quit it," you snapped, but I could tell that you were not entirely objectionable to the title.

"Yes, _shinrigakusha__-san_."

* * *

><p><strong>Note: shinrigakusha – psychologist.<strong>


	12. Letting go

**A/N: Did the chapter title scare you for a moment? Anyhow, I'm oddly fond of someone here...**

**And my thanks to Theswanghost01, missmocha77, glitterthorn and supercoconut for all the support. You have made writing this bearable.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

* * *

><p><span>1.00 pm to 1.30 pm: Lesson 9 – Letting go<span>

_When all is said and done, hate fades long before love._

/

"Kid, explain this."

"I would like to know as well. Perhaps you could explain instead, seeing as you have been here for much longer than I have, and might actually have encountered this before."

"She was your problem."

"You took this 'problem' off my hands."

"I don't recall doing anything as stupid as that."

We were presently looking in the figurative distance at a faintly familiar silhouette. Although space theoretically did not exist in the border, that figure was reasonably far away. Not that I particularly wanted it to get closer.

Not that I should be calling it an "it" to begin with. I did recognise the characteristic thought patterns belonging to the other soul in the "distance". They were not comforting. The fact that those thoughts could actually spill over to me already said plenty on its own.

"She's unhinged." I stated.

"I can see that. Still your problem, kid," you shot back. "In fact, I think she's here for you."

"You don't know that," I said calmly. "Stop trying to shirk your half of the responsibility."

"It was all yours to begin with," you mutter, but you didn't contest the point again. You flicked a hand in the direction of the unhinged. "You may go first."

I obliged, confident in the assumption that you would not disappear and leave me to fend for myself. I approached the unhinged slowly, which in this border meant that I chose to stay as far as possible until there was no other way to keep away, unless I started going backward.

As I had so assumed, you didn't run.

As I drew closer, the same fuzziness invaded my peripheral awareness. I had encountered unhinged a fair number of times, and yet I never became used to this feeling of discomfort. The same feeling descended every time there was a lack of clarity in thought, which the unhinged brought with them everywhere.

We surrounded the unhinged, who was crouching in an impossible position. Her distended legs were tucked in to her chest, and at the same time they were crossed above the knees. Her disproportionately elongated hands were clamped to the sides of her heads, but through the gaps in the too-thin fingers I could see no trace of ears. For a moment I considered my own ears; once I had ascertained that I had not forgotten about them, I returned my attention to the soul in front of me.

"Get up, girl." Your harsh voice cut through the curtain of hazy thoughts that surrounded the unhinged. It didn't matter that she had no ears. As long as you wanted her to hear you, she would.

She raised her head, and I could see no trace of the beautiful face that she wore on the night she was murdered. Her lips moved, but no sound issued from between them. Instead, I heard it as a thought. **Who're you?**

I had not quite expected her to forget the people who brought her to the border, but it was not entirely surprising either. After all, she had to be pretty far gone to become unhinged.

**Did you die too? **She unfurled from her crouch, unsteadily reaching one malformed hand towards you. I noted that her legs were of different lengths, one dipping much further than the other as she dragged herself forward. **I'm sorry, I couldn't help you. I'm sorry.**

I honestly thought that she should have felt sorrier for herself. Clearly she was unable to tolerate death at this range, and tried to interfere. Like I once did, but you were there to stop me.

Her four-fingered hand clasped your shoulder, and I grudgingly respected you for not pulling away or rejecting her. You patted her hand in a gentle manner, all the while maintaining an unaffected expression.

The unhinged ignored me. Or perhaps she wasn't lucid enough to notice my presence.

**I can't do this anymore!** She released you and collapsed back into her prior position with all its gymnastic feats that would not have been humanly possible.

"It's time to go," I told her. Her too-large eyes peered up at me. I couldn't find the disapproval I once held so strongly. It seemed to have faded in the face of her current plight. Perhaps she had even subconsciously sought us out, to end her suffering. I will never know. "You've done well."

/

Between the two of us, we escorted her as far along the border as we dared. I appreciated the clarity that descended with her departure. Even though I could not find it within myself to dislike her any further, the presence of the unhinged still felt heavy. And discomforting.

At least she would be able to find peace now. As I made my way back along the border, it did feel like a relief to know that this entire incident found some closure for itself.

"Her hate wasn't enough to keep her from eroding away," I commented without thinking. I hadn't intended to throw it out like this, but it slipped out anyway. In any case, it was just an honest observation.

"Told you it would happen," you said with the same unconcerned expression. "What was it again? 'To err is human, to forgive… inhuman'?"

" 'Divine'," I corrected. " 'To err is human, to forgive, divine.' Who would want to be inhuman?"

"Point being that you shouldn't hold grudges, kid." You pressed on, ignoring my jab. "When it's all over, you find that you'll remember the happy times more than the sad."

That was true. Every time I tried to recall the days from before, I always came back to the same few.

The same few with Sasuke laughing in them.


	13. Forgetting

**A/N: Should I try to explain the lack of words in this chapter? Let's see... We're _approaching_ the end... My hand hurts from six hours of writing... Ok, I'll stop making excuses. It's more of the first reason, because I didn't write this today.**

**My hand still hurts though.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Same with quote.**

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><p><span>1.30 pm to 2.00 pm: Lesson 10 – Forgetting<span>

_Even now, I don't forget.  
>(Even now, I can't remember.)<br>~The Crucified Saint-girl_

/

"I think I'm beginning to forget."

Silence. A moment later, you replied. "You've always been forgetting. You only just noticed it."

"I don't like knowing that there are things slipping from my memory," I said quietly.

More silence. Then, as though you came to a decision, you raised your head to look at me. "What are you forgetting?"

Many things, it appeared. I searched through my memories. "They're there, but the details are missing. For example, I remember the tests that were administered during the Chuunin Exam, but I can't remember how many genin participated."

"That doesn't matter."

"If I'm beginning to forget what I was doing when my brother was born, is that still of little consequence?"

Again with the silence. It seemed as though you regretted continuing the conversation in the first place.

"Is your brother that important to you?"

I had not been expecting any further response, but my reply came to me immediately. "Yes."

"Then he'll forgive you," you said shortly.

This was unexpected as well. "I'm afraid I'm not able to follow your logic."

You looked as though you wanted to sigh. "If you love him that much, you'll try to hold on to all your memories of him. And I think that the effort alone is enough."

"It doesn't change the fact that I'm forgetting," I pointed out somberly.

"It doesn't," you agreed, looking me in the eye. "In fact, it won't ever. Face it, kid, you've been here for a damn long time. It's inevitable."

"It has been a very long time, hasn't it?" I said, more to myself than you. "And there's still more to come. If I forget about him before his time comes, then it'll have all been for naught."

"You only forget faster in death," you replied absently, watching the blankness of the border instead. "You forget in life as well. As long as you try hard enough, you won't forget."

"I won't." That was one thing I was sure I wanted. Even now that I'm dead, he would still be the most important thing to me. I wouldn't forget that. That was the only reason for me to keep fighting to stay. And that was something that would never change.


	14. Dismissal

**A/N: I may have lost the battle on 'uneasy allies', but I haven't lost the war! This is just to keep my head on my shoulders, because curious people are scary people haha. In the meantime, allow me to introduce you to my OTP - Meru/Eli! Oh wait, that wasn't what I intended to say. What I meant was, I'm beginning to love Terumi Mei. Yes.**

**This chapter kind of gives away what's going to happen though.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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><p><span>2.00 pm to 2.30 pm: Dismissal<span>

_A son who lost his mother, a mother who left her son. Just what exactly are they searching for?_

/

You suddenly stood, eyes wide in shock. I haven't seen any expression as strong from you, not ever. "I'm off," you announced without even looking at me.

"Can I come along?" I inquired. It wasn't every day one of us felt a call that strong. It had to be someone important, or closely connected. I learned that over time. And I was curious, to some extent.

You hesitated before nodding curtly. Without waiting you stalked off to where you could exit the border. I followed closely behind, vaguely recalling with amusement how I had to be hand-held the first time I needed to cross in those early days.

I emerged into a simple room. It was night, I noted, looking out of the window. An old man lay sleeping alone, on a bed too large for him. From this, I gathered that the old man's wife must have crossed fairly recently. From the sound of his breathing, I calculated that the man himself had perhaps an hour or two. Not too much time.

But enough for me to take a look around. Swiveling around, I saw you standing by a shelf of framed photos. Again, I felt the faint prick of curiosity. Just what were you so interested in, when you usually cared nothing for the possessions of the living world?

I approached soundlessly, but by now I didn't even notice that my feet would not, would never touch the floor. You were staring at a particular photo. I craned my neck slightly to see past your head. Not that I had to, but some habits are hard to break, even after years spent being dead.

It was an old photo, as evidenced by the sepia tones that coloured it. A young woman with short blond hair surrounded by a large group of kids who looked around five. My eyes zoomed in on one particular child, with black eyes and long hair, wearing an expression too old for him.

It took me a moment to place it, but I recognised the child. It was me, long ago, in a photo of my advanced chemistry class, taken when I was five and alive, with our teacher. Now that I knew, I could somewhat recall that the teacher was only an intern, staying for only a month. The photo was taken on the day she left, if my memory could be trusted.

**What a coincidence**, I thought, pleasantly surprised. Was the dying man one of the children in the photo? A former classmate of mine? How odd that I could remember all this now. I glanced at you. From the little I already knew, I inferred that you were probably one of my former classmates too, only I couldn't place which. There were a few girls with black hair and eyes.

"Which one are you?" I asked. You never told me why you, out of all the dead walking the border, had been the one to receive me at my moment of death.

You lifted a hand and pointed at someone.

/

_"Oi, Itachi-kun, if you study all the time, you'll go crazy. Nobody really cares about histone acetyltransferase - Yuki-chan, do that again and you can forget about going home on time."_

_"Put that textbook down and go play outside. If I catch you throwing kunai or shuriken I'll confiscate them. And then I'll call your mother."_

_"Recess is the one lesson everyone has no matter what they study."_

_"Shut up and sit down, damn brat. The other kids aren't at that level yet."_

/

"_Sensei_?"

A smile spread across your face slowly. You were showing a lot of emotions today. "I haven't been called that since that day, kid," you said softly, your eyes fixed on the photo. Gradually, your hair bleached itself blond and shortened, your features blurred and shifted to match those shown in the photo. You were reforming your image back into the one shown in the picture.

Privately I thought that you weren't really succeeding, because your colouring had taken on the sepia tone of that aged photo and it made you look inhuman, but that wasn't really my place to say so. Although at the moment, it was of little consequence. Thinking about it now, I suspected that I had been intentionally led to believe that you were someone else. "Why?" **Why did you change?**

You understood the question though, even though you couldn't hear my thoughts any more. "Because you wanted your mother," you said simply. You faced me, and already I could see no trace of the person who spent years along the border with me.

"And?" So what if I wished to see Mother again? You wouldn't have cared.

Your image flickered a little, as though you weren't used to holding it. For a moment, I could see a little of your former appearance, the one I knew so well. "You don't know how I died, do you?"

"No." How could I, when you didn't want to tell me anything?

"I died in childbirth, Itachi." I noted your use of my name. You only ever used it when you felt like being kind. You gestured at the dying man. "I've always been waiting for him. I wanted to see him just once, if not in life, then in death. I wanted to tell him that I really wished to see him grow up. That I don't regret dying so that he could live."

I understood. Or perhaps I couldn't understand. But I could sympathise. And now I knew why you stayed with me all this while.

"Then you should go to him," I said quietly. "I'll go back now." This will be the last time I'll see you. Just like when I was five, I was glad that neither of us were given to making a huge deal out of parting.

The last thing I saw before I reentered the border was an expression of longing on your face as you stood by your son.

/

I was now entirely on my own in the emptiness of the border. For the first time, I knew with certainty that I had only myself to keep my sanity intact.

I didn't know how much time had passed when I suddenly saw a figure appear in front of me. I was initially shocked, even more so when I saw you, in the form that I was so familiar with.

"Why are you still here?" I asked. **Especially in this form, now that you've already found the one you've been waiting for.**

"To say my last words, stupid kid. I told you that I'd let you know when I was crossing."

I didn't know why, but you were smiling for once when you said that. I think I was smiling too, or at least appearing to. I didn't remember how it felt like to smile any more. "Go on."

You sighed. "I'm going now. Thank you for sticking with me all this time."

You brought a hand up to your face, brushing over the mask cautiously, as though it felt unfamiliar to you. "You know, all this time when I was alone here, I didn't know that I was beginning to forget. By the time I realised I was forgetting, I had already forgotten my name."

So that's why you never told me your name. You went on. "By the time I picked you up, I already forgot what I looked like, what I sounded like. I think if I hadn't met you then, I would have eventually forgotten what I was waiting for and got pulled across, like the others. Thank you for keeping me sane."

I liked having you around too. "The same goes for me." Now that I knew who you were, I wondered why I never noticed that even wearing my mother's face, you always the same person. The one who taught me more than just chemistry.

"I knew who you were from the start, Itachi. If what lies beyond here is an afterlife or rebirth, then I hope that we will meet again. And that when we do, you will be happy."

Be happy. Simple as it sounded, it had always been lacking in my life. I could feel your intentions clearly for the first time. "Thank you, _sensei_."

"Farewell, Itachi," you said.

Then you were gone.

I settled down and prepared to wait.


	15. Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Or the quotes. For the last time. I had a hard time picking quotes for this one, cuz Sound Horizon is a gold mine when it comes to beautifully poetic lines.**

* * *

><p><span>2.30 pm to 3.00 pm: Home<span>

_Farewell._

/

I didn't have to wait long.

My first call on my own came not long after. And it was a strong one. It was so strong that I never doubted who is was, not even for a moment.

It led me to a beautiful place. A backyard facing the setting sun, with a tree casting it's long shadow over it. Children chased each other across the short green grass, weaving their own play of shadows under the warm orange light. A light breeze gusted through, not that I could feel it. In response the leaves on the tree waved gently, as though to a friend. And on the porch, an old man watched the children play while lightly dozing on a wooden chair, paradoxically looking both frail and strong.

**I always wanted to live in the same era as you…**

Frail in body, perhaps, but strong in mind. Strong in the knowledge that he would not have any regrets, strong in the knowledge that all will be well. And yet, even though he had changed so much, the nostalgia was still there. A tad less pronounced than I recalled, but still tangible, as always.

I felt as though a weight had been lifted off my mind. He was able to be happy, after all. I never knew that I had worried until I saw him, surrounded by this heartwarming environment. I should have known that I would have, inevitably. Why else would I have stayed all this while?

…**but providence wouldn't let us, would it?**

His time was slipping by. It wouldn't be long now. I strode to his side, leaving no trail on the grass, and, even though he wouldn't know it, watched the sun set together with him for the last time.

When the sun touched the horizon, he crossed.

/

"Sasuke."

Sasuke blinked once. "Itachi?"

He looked just like I remembered, and it felt very much like I was thirteen again, before the massacre, before I left him on his own. Before hate and despair took his heart, before disgrace and sadness took mine.

"It's a long story," I said, knowing that he would ask. It might have been a long time, but some things never change.

He gave me an earnest look. "I'm sorry."

I knew that this would happen, when everything came out. "It wasn't your fault. It was my choice."

"Have you been waiting for me all this time?" Sasuke demanded, peering at me curiously.

I smiled. Or I showed him what passed for a smile in my memory. It had been a long time after all. And my _otouto_ was still as demanding as ever. "Yes. Shall we proceed now?"

"To?"

For the first time since that day, I laughed. "For once, _otouto_, I don't know."

/

_This is it. The final death. No more walking along the border, no more waiting, no more resisting._

_I'm not afraid of the final crossing. I already stayed way past my time, way past what even the others have stayed. I guess I have you to thank for that._

_It's so strange how everything seems so white and warm here, even though it still feels just like the border we've walked for decades. Not that it felt like decades. Then again, any difference is probably just a figment of my imagination._

_I'm not afraid. Not with my brother beside me. I feel oddly at peace with myself right now, like whether it's black or white or cold or warm doesn't matter anymore. Is this why you waited too, I wonder?_

_I guess after I'm past this I'll be completely, irrevocably dead. No more pseudo-living. Nothing left at all. It's rather like graduating from a school._

_I wonder if there's anything that I left behind, anything that shows that I've lived and loved before I died. That I spent all this time walking, waiting, trying not to go insane along the border. Is there any record of that, even?_

_Even if there is, it wouldn't matter. There are many things that I've regretted, but there are even more that I have not. The time we spent along the border is one of them._

/

_In that dazzling era that you're now laughing in  
>Without resenting anyone, without resenting our deaths<br>Let us surely meet there  
>~Song of Dawn<em>

**-End-**

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><p><strong>AN: And so I have finally come to the end of this series… A really painful series to write, if anything. I have lots of people to thank for that – _Sound Horizon_ for inspiration (I'm even listening to them now), _Jiang-Mei_ for helping out, _missmocha77_ for actually reviewing EVERY chapter, _Ghostsammeo_ for all his feedback and support, _catdompteuse_ for her feedback on my writing, _imboredhelpmeh_ for pointing out how a reader would feel, _Theswanghost01_ for caring and all the support as well, _JustBeYou_ for favouriting, _DezzieWinter_, _DRAGONheartedxx_, _glitterthorn_ and _supercoconut_ for alerting! ^^ THANK YOU SO MUCH!**

**I'm considering a spin-off (a humourous one) titled "The Tyrant Teacher of Room 102" for absolutely no reason at all. I'm adding it to my list of possible projects on my profile poll, so yeah, do take a look at it if you want. I also feel like writing a Shikamaru/Ino, a Kakashi/Mei, a Shaytan/Layla... Eh wait, the last one is irrelevant. I'm already writing it.**

**And of course, do leave a review if you feel like it. Thanks for coming all the way.**


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